Watashi no Takaramono
by Uncle.Dragon
Summary: Japanese for "My Greatest Treasure", Guest starring Durarara! GO GO SHIZNAT!


My Greatest Treasure

My name is Shizuru Fujino, daughter to famous explorer, demons exorcising and treasure hunting couple Kuuga and Ayako Fujino. My parents always wanted the best for me and my older brother Shizuo, and they did everything they could to make sure we had the best. And I mean the best EVERYTHING. The best food, the best shelter, even the best water, if that's possible. Sure, they had a habit of running off and leaving me and Shizuo with my mother's sister, Rika, but it was for the best.

They'd always come back and say "Shizuru, Shizuo! We're back! And look what we got you guys!" That also was in their definition of "The Best for Us", bringing us back little trinkets and lethal weapons, as they called them, from their expeditions. One time it would be a necklace of sapphires, or a diamond ring. Once they brought me a pair of golden hooped earrings that my father said belonged to the Overlord Bowser. I wear them every day, as a reminder of my parents.

One day, my parents went out on one of their expeditions, taking Shizuo along with them since he is old enough, and... simply never returned. I was eleven and an orphan.

My Aunt Rika brought me up from that day out, and worked her tail off to get me a good education. Sure, I had to relinquish some of the material things my previous life garnered me, but I was still fed well, had a good home, and was well taken care of.

I think my aunt was the one who made me start looking at people and seeing what was really inside them. She could just look at someone and tell if they were sick, angry, depressed, in love, heartbroken, you name it. I picked up a little of that from her. She was a bit of a treasure hunter herself, but she preferred to stay close to home. She would go into the little antique store on the edge of town, and always come back with some nick-knack. My aunt had a horrible sense of adventure, but a fantastic imagination.

She would come back, sit me down at the table, and place that little nick-knack in the center and ask me: "Shizuru? Do you know this thing's story?" And of course, knowing full well where she got it, I would always answer with "Aunt Rika, you picked it up in an antique store!". She would smile, and I would smile, then we'd laugh, then she'd say "No, no, Shizuru. That's where I got it. But that doesn't mean that's its story! It wasn't born in that store... it had to get there... now what do you think it did to get there?"

My aunt and I spent so many happy hours around that table making up stories for all her little nick-knacks. There was the fifth century Xing Dynasty vase, which clearly had "Made in China" stamped on the bottom. Then there was the table ware set we had that was from the Genpei War, even though it was a clearly modern design. We had so much fun making things up...

I often say I have two good qualities. My sense of imagination, and my sense of adventure. One was born in me, the other I had to develop.

When I became eighteen, my aunt sent me to Ikebukuro. She said that a Fujino like me shouldn't be cooped up in some little town. They should be free to roam in a big city! So with five hundred World Dollars for food, tolls and drink, I became an orphan again... this time, by choice. I arrived at Ikebukuro, and it was obvious to anyone looking at me that I was hopelessly lost.

So many people were trying to take advantage of my inexperience. But I was smarter. My parents always warned me that there were people like them; treasure hunters, who would steal from other people... bad men and women who would soon as deceive you as look at you. I just kept walking until I found my place.

I spent a year in Ikebukuro, living with a Sushi chef, Simon Brezhnev. I can't say it was the worst year of my life, but it ranks pretty high up on that scale. Soon, I was informed by Izaya Orihara, (who is probably the worst criminal in Ikebukuro, at least what Simon says,) that I had a commission from a very wealthy man to retrieve a thumb drive containing a blueprint of the ancient weapon, the Vegnagun, from a rather infamous gang called Neo-Dollars. The reward for it was a rather... weighty sum of gold and a job working for him.

Well, I took the commision and managed to recover the thumb drive. Turns out my employer, on Mashiro Fuuka, was trying to stop the world from falling into Neo-Dollars hands, but was too short-staffed to do it herself. Honestly, if she was that short-staffed, how could one more do any good?

Anyways, I declined to work for her, but I did take her offer to move to Tokyo, which was safer than Ikebukuro by about a hundred less hooligans, no weird tasting Russian Sushi and no Izaya Orihara to mess around with me.

And Tokyo is where I found and captured my greatest treasure. It was the rarest jewel known to man and werewolves alike. In the sun, it radiates like fire, and in the moon, it burns with a unnatural, beautiful glow. It's heavier then lead, but lighter than air. It's soft, yet hard at times and in places. It has a voice which is pointed, but kind. It has eyes which are accusing, but caring. And most importantly of all, it has a name which resonate only love.

The jewel I am referring to is, of course, called "Natsuki Kruger". She is what keeps me breathing in this world, and what keeps me doing what I do. Sure, my work is dangerous, I know that more then anyone else. I know Natsuki worries about me when I do something drastic, stupid, or both. I worry too. But I do it, because when I come back, it makes seeing her more fruitful. I come back and I'm loved. I feel like my parents and Shizuo's sacrifices weren't in vain.

Natsuki is the greatest treasure I have ever had the pleasure... no... the honour to hold. We're opposites at times, and we can be the same. We can be two sides of the same coin, or the same face on separate statues.

I say Natsuki is my greatest treasure. And I'm sure she'd say I'm the best target she's ever hit.


End file.
